


Times that hurt the most

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Also slight Vanya bashing but she was rude ok?, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dolores is there but her part is kinda sad so I haven't included in the character bit, Gen, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Mostly hurt Five, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:43:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29766048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: A sort of top Five of hurt Five (ain't that appropriate)and +1 of niceness
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Everyone
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	Times that hurt the most

  
  


1- When he realizes no one is coming

It hurts. It hurts to know that this is all his fault, and that because of a stupid mistakes now his family is dead, and he had to be alone, for always, for years and years and years to come. Days felt eternal, and were full of voices of those he could never hear again.

Dad telling him not to do this, that he wasn't prepared, that he would mess up, laughing at his pain. His siblings, now dead, asking him why he'd left,, why he'd gone out and left them to die what looked like a painful death.... And this was all his fault.

Because he'd wanted too much, because he overreached, thought himself beyond any limits. And now he wasn't allowed anything, no powers, no food or water, no books, no saturday off time, no family. Nothing. He had nothing, and he was trapped in nothing. Nobody was coming for him, and he could get himself out.

This was his life from now on, and it was his own fault.

It hurt.

2- Her

"Don't you think, Dolores?"

No, she didn't.

Although he sometimes managed to ignore it, sometimes it hit Five, with the strength of punch to the throat. Dolores couldn't think, she couldn't answer him, and she couldn't choose to do anything. Dolores wasn't even alive.

The love of his life, and she was nothing but a piece of plastic, burned in some parts, old and faded, that he had given a personality to, that he'd given life. And it was difficult, because he'd got so used to her being there, talking, being sassy, being herself.

That seeing... Knowing she wasn't really there... That she would never hug him back, she would never swim in the sea, she would never be warm, she would never.... think, because she wasn't real. And matter how real it felt in his head, he couldn't make her real. She would never be able to make her own decisions, live her life.

Because as much as he loved her, Dolores was just him. His attempt at maintaining sanity.

She was never real.

And that hurt too.

3- When he has to kill

This had never been part of his plan.

He had wanted to save his family, and in doing so save the world, all the people that had died with his siblings. Their missions as kids might have been misguided, but he did believe in helping others, in helping people, in saving the world.

And now... Now they were telling him that what he was doing was the betterment of humanity, that there was no other way, that actually killing these people would mean saving others. That's what they'd told him - but Five could smell brainwashing from miles away (that had been most of his social interactions, haven't they?) and he could see flaws in the system. Things could be handled in a different, better way. But they weren't.

And all he was left with was not the betterment of anything, but gruesome, horrible death, like the one he'd been surrounded by all those years in the wasteland he'd called a home. All those bodies he wondered what had happened... well, maybe he had happened. Maybe it was his gun that had ended their lives, their hopes and dreams.

He knew that if he wasn't him it would be someone else, and that this commission job gave him the opportunity to think better on his equations now that he had food, and would probably give him a better point of entry to go back to his siblings. He knew better than to just shoot the Handler and leave - he'd learned that if he did things without thinking, it could lead to astronomical disasters.

So he waited. And he killed. Hated it, and hated himself.

He looked at his hands, and they were bloody.

It was not his blood, but it was oh so painful.

It really, really hurt.

4- Dismissed

He'd been certain that she was the first one that he was going to tell, and quite sure that she would probably provide an interesting point of view, some good ideas.

Vanya and Five had been good friends as kids, had talked a lot, not just about what dicks dad and the others were, but sometimes about deeper things, about music and philosophy and history too, and there had been an understanding between them, a bond. So he'd known that he would tell her first, and it would be nice, to get it off his chest, be able to share the horror.

But it was not nice.

She dismissed him, told him that "his mind was maybe affected" and then said she was going to bed, that she had work in the morning. They hadn't seen each other in decades and she was just going to go to bed? Because of lessons she had to teach? No catching up (although what would be the point if she wasn't going to believe him), no can I make you dinner, no spending time together?

She really was just going to avoid him after he'd opened to her, and leave him in a couch with a blanket, alone again, dismissed, unheard, seemingly unwanted.

Fourty five years figthing for someone just to hear that some lessons were more important than a brother that you hadn't seen in seventeen years, and had sought you out, injured.

Yeah, wow.

He didn't think anything could hurt more than the apocalypse and the commission.

He was wrong.

5- Pool of blood

He'd done so much. Crossed every line, left behind everything, just so he could save them, just so that they would live. Each and every plan he had failed, and yet he had kept going on, for them, because he wanted them to be okay.

And now they were dead, anyways. Laying on a barn, shot to death, without even time to realise it. Dead. All of his years of struggle, all that he had endured, all of that had been for nothing. Hell, maybe they would have been better off without him, if he hadn't shown. Maybe at least they wouldn't have some stupid hope that they could make it.

They could never make it, the only thing they could do was die, over and over and over and over - while he watched, useless, unable to help, laying on a pool of his own blood. All that he had done on the apocalypse to survive, all he had done in the commission... for nothing. He couldn't save them, he made no difference.

His legacy was only one of blood, of the people he'd killed. Missing child turned assassin was all he was ever going to be.

He really, really hadn't wanted to see them die again.

It really, really hurt.

+1

The van was fairly spacious, so techincally Five nap on his own in a corner, against a window or something, but Klaus had been adamant that he put his "youthful" head on his lap, and Five fell asleep to the sound of his voice. His legs were on top of someone else, too, possibly Allison, since her voice sounded the closest.

"Hush, guys, Five is sleeping!"

He kind of was, but didn't mind the voices around, the jokes, the stupidity, even when it was loud. This was what he'd been fighting for - a future where they alive and together, where there was still a world that had them, a world with no impending doom. So yeah, there were potholes, and sometimes Diego spoke too loud, Vanya's driving wasn't the best or they took the wrong road.

But for once, and for a moment....

Nothing hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> You know you wanna comment!!!


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